Parker: Calling Trump a poodle gives brave breed a bad name

You get the idea.

Not surprisingly, poodles are outraged. Surely, any fair person would concede that they deserve a voice in the matter, which I have volunteered to provide. I am a poodle person. I am not, however, a poufy-poodle person, as my unkempt Ollie would attest were he able. Poodles, which originated in Germany, not France, as often believed, were bred as duck-hunting retrievers. It was the French, however, who began the practice of turning these enthusiastic swimmers into canine topiaries.

The idea behind these poodle aspersions, apparently, is that when a world leader appears to be weak or subservient, then he or she is considered to be poodle-like. This is absurd on its face. First of all, poodles are inexplicably brave, especially those of the toy breed, which, despite their aptitude in other matters, are oblivious to scale.

Thus, to call a weak, submissive fool a poodle is misguided — and no insult to the person so designated. Perhaps, such scribes and scribblers are projecting their own rage at the object of their thwarted childhood dreams? If girls always wanted a pony, did some boys-become-pundits always really want a poodle? Clearly, more study is needed.

Begging for treats

They say that people often resemble the dogs they choose for themselves, though just as likely, they select dogs with the characteristics they think they also possess. Putin, for example, once bragged to Bush that his dog, a Labrador retriever, was bigger, stronger and faster than Bush’s Scottish Terrier. To be sure, this was true, but what kind of man displays his dog’s physical attributes to burnish his own masculinity and, presumably, his dominion in the dog park?

Would that insights into foreign leaders were so simple. Here’s an idea: Let’s skip World War III and just have a dog show.

Trump, alas, has no dog in this fight or any other. This is because in his mind, he is the dog. He’s the Big Dog. He’s got bigger buildings, better cars, boats and planes, the prettiest wife. And the world isn’t an oyster, after all, but a hydrant. How odd, given all his massive accumulation of objects and wealth, that he did seem to be wagging for Putin and begging for treats.

This is nothing a real poodle would do — ever. I’ve known poodles, Mr. Trump, and, notwithstanding your topiar-ied poof, you’re no poodle.